The View from Sixty: Gratitude, Grace, and a Little Glitter

It’s been just over a week since my 60th birthday, and I’m still gently processing the love and joy that filled those days of celebration in the magical city of Prague, surrounded by friends and family. My heart feels full to the brim with gratitude—for reaching this milestone, for the beauty of connection, and for every soul who’s touched my life along the way. I expected a post-celebration lull, but instead I find myself still floating in that golden afterglow, soaking in the wonder of it all. Life feels wrapped in both grace and glitter—moments of quiet reflection balanced by flashes of pure delight. I notice beauty everywhere, and I’m deeply moved by the small, shining moments of joy unfolding in others. And as I settle into this new decade, I find myself reflecting on what this milestone truly means.

Sixty: The Summit and the View 

Turning sixty feels like standing at a summit. Not a final peak, but one of those sacred ledges along the way—where the climb has been long, the view is breathtaking, and the journey ahead stretches with possibility. I’ve caught my breath here. I’ve turned inward. I’ve turned outward. I’ve laughed, grieved, dared, resisted, softened, reclaimed. And now I find myself with a fuller, richer view of my life than ever before.

There’s something exquisitely spiritual about reaching this milestone. It’s not just about age. It’s about essence. It’s about having gathered enough experience to hear the soul’s voice more clearly. About finally realizing you don’t need to be everything to everyone—and the fierce freedom that comes with that.

This is a moment to honor not only what I’ve lived through, but who I’ve become. And even more than that—who I’m still becoming.

The Layered Beauty of Becoming

When I look back, I can trace the steps that brought me here—not all of them graceful, not all of them conscious, but all of them necessary. Some were soaked in longing. Others were shaped by pain. There were seasons of certainty and seasons of unraveling. Times I stood in my truth, and times I abandoned it.

But woven through all of it was an undeniable pull toward authenticity.

What has become clearer to me with each passing year is that growth doesn’t happen in spite of the challenges—it happens through them. The hard conversations. The moments of surrender. The quiet rebuilding. The gentle reckoning with my own soul. All of it has shaped the woman I am today: softer, stronger, wiser, and far more whole.

This is the essence of Radiant Rebirth—the sacred cycle I’ve lived over and over, and now hold space for others to live as well.

The Gift of Inner Peace

In my earlier years, I chased peace the way you might chase a mirage—believing that if I could just fix, achieve, or perfect enough, I’d finally feel calm inside. I searched for it in external sources—other people, accomplishments, control—but peace, I’ve come to learn, doesn’t arrive from without. It blooms quietly within.

It lives in alignment, in presence, in self-honesty. And it often comes as a gentle afterglow of release—letting go of what others think, of outdated expectations, of the endless need to prove myself.

At sixty, peace looks like being at ease with not being for everyone. It looks like early mornings with tea and my journal. It looks like trusting that I can sit with discomfort and not abandon myself.

Peace is no longer a performance; it’s my home.And from this place of centeredness, I find the courage to expand.

Intuition as Lifeline

In many ways, intuition has been my most loyal companion. But for much of my life, I didn’t know how to listen to her. She whispered beneath the noise of “shoulds,” under the pressure to accommodate, beneath layers of self-doubt. She tried to guide me toward more soul-aligned paths, even when I didn’t yet believe I was worthy of them.

Now I honor her with reverence. I know the feel of her voice in my body. I know that when I follow her, even if the path is unclear, it will always bring me closer to my truth.

At sixty, I don’t need a detailed map. I need my inner compass. And I trust it more than ever before.

Longings as Fundamental Clues

One of the most liberating things I’ve learned is that our longings are essential. They aren’t evidence of lack; they are evidence of life. Of soul. Of direction. They are messages from our deeper selves about what we are here to experience and express.

Too often, especially as women, we’re taught to dismiss our desires. To be grateful for what we have, to not ask for too much, to not disrupt the system. But the truth is, we are meant to long—and then to listen to those longings as unique invitations to expand.

At sixty, I still have longings. Deep ones. For beauty. For adventure. For intimacy. For meaningful work. For more laughter, more joy, more connection. I’m not done dreaming, and I’m certainly not done becoming.

And I no longer feel guilty for wanting more. I see it as a sign that I’m alive, engaged, and willing to evolve.

The Inspired Identity I Now Embody

There was a time when my identity was shaped mostly by roles—mother, wife, friend, teacher. These roles were meaningful, but they weren’t the whole truth of me. Over the years, I’ve gently peeled back the layers of who I thought I was supposed to be, and I’ve gotten closer to the essence of who I actually am.

This, to me, is the most powerful gift of aging. I don’t need to fit into someone else’s mold. I get to define my own expression. My identity is no longer reactive; it is authored by me.

And that identity is not fixed—it’s alive. It grows with me. She is intuitive, radiant, creative, loving and loveable, wise, and free. She is a woman who trusts herself. A woman who honors her divinely ordained timing. A woman who no longer compromises her voice for belonging.

This is what Radiant Rebirth is all about. Not just healing the past, but reimagining the future.

Sacred No, Sacred Yes

Perhaps one of the most significant awakenings on this journey was learning to say a Sacred No—not just to others, but to the parts of myself that kept settling, hiding, or pretending.

It took me years to realize that saying no isn’t rejection—it’s refinement. It’s choosing alignment over approval. And it’s what creates space for a Sacred Yes to emerge.

Every time I say no to what drains me, I say yes to my energy.

Every time I say no to what dishonors me, I say yes to my worth.

Every time I say no to the old story, I say yes to possibility.

At sixty, I’m no longer afraid to disappoint others if it means being true to myself. And I’m no longer willing to live on autopilot. Life is too precious, and I am too unapologetic.

What I Know Now

If I could go back and whisper something to my younger self, I’d say this:

“There’s so much waiting for you, if you can simply surrender. Be brave enough to take off the mask—the right people will love and accompany you exactly as you are. You don’t have to prove your worth; it was never in question. Listen for your inner voice—it’s the truest compass you’ll ever have. Trust that joy and healing can co-exist, and that both belong to you. And remember, your life isn’t behind you—it’s always unfolding, even now.”

There’s still so much I long to live, and so much I long to give. But I’m not in a hurry. I move in my own rhythm now.

This moment—this summit of sixty—isn’t an ending. It’s a luminous mile marker, a place to pause, breathe, and whisper, “Look how far I’ve come.”And then, with reverence and joy, to keep walking toward all that still awaits.

To You, Dear Reader

If you’re reading this and you’re somewhere on your own Radiant Rebirth path—maybe just beginning, maybe deep in the messy middle, maybe emerging new and whole—I want you to know: you are not alone. There’s a rhythm inside you that is trustworthy. There’s a longing in you that is sacred. There’s a version of you waiting to be reclaimed—and she is more magnificent than you know.

Here’s to all of us—at sixty, at thirty, at seventy, at any age—choosing to rise, soften, shed, and shine.

Because it’s never too late to come home to yourself.

And if you welcome more suggestions to support your transformation, more guidance for your personal growth journey, I want to invite you to join the Goddess Haven, the on-line community for the Radiant Rebirth Program. You will meet other women like you—amazing, accomplished, adventurous—who are ready to create a life that not only looks good on the outside, but feels like home on the inside. Visit the web-site for more information.

www.radiant-rebirth.com/community